Free from destiny
by Fai's smile
Summary: Magic is powerful as is the survival instinct. Fates are devious by heart and falling can make you pretty dizzy. Dizziness does not have good effect on decision-making. Loki is falling. Newborns are innocent. Harry Potter is the only known human to survive killing curse. But is he really? Freed from destiny, will he get chained by past?
1. Of dreams and falls

**Of dreams and falls**

_I burn to make you understand_

_One wrong word and it all may come crashing down_

_For the fates are devious by heart_

_They envy you your dreams, so they'll let you drown._

Poets of the Fall - Heal my wounds

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or English is not my maternal language. You were warned.**

**AN: This idea is old. I lost many version of it and this is attempted fusion of what I remember from all my lost versions. When I finish this part. I will post a sequel as HP/Avenger crossover (it took me some time to decide this and come up with appropriate names - I hate coming up with names). The uploading will probably be slow, but I might be swifter. Feedback makes my day and all sort of it are welcomed, especially constructive critisicm, through I ask be civil and use English or Czech, if you want me to understand, what you wrote.**

My godfather was dead, killed after spending twelve years in the hell on the Earth, and the next three on the run. And as I know the Ministry, they won't even clear his name post-mortem.

I was fifteen and so very tired. Tired of headmaster's manipulation. Tired of wizarding sheep-like mentality. Tired of my relatives prejudice. But most of all, I was tired of seeing people die for me.

I didn't want to see another one dying for me. But as the worlds of the prophecy rung through my ears and resonated in my brain, I knew, I knew as surely as that two and two are four, that there will be others.

I was fifteen, almost sixteen. My godfather was murdered before my very own eyes, because I stupidly fell for an obvious trap. My parents were dead, murdered, because of stupid prophecy concerning me. Cedric was dead, murdered, because I just had to be merciful and let that stupid rat live, because I just had to be fair and suggest taking the cup at the same time.

So many died, because of me. _For me._

And I knew, that so many more will follow.

All for a prophecy I finally heard before being deposited back to my cell in my own private prison. As I stood there in littlest bedroom the house, I wondered: Why? What kind of world do we live in, where children are born to kill or be killed? I was an innocent little child, not even born yet, so why? Why me? What could I have done to deserve this? Just why?

"Why? What did I do?" I asked brokenly. The room did not answer. Hedwig gave me a pitying look, before flying into the night. I sighed and closed my eyes. I could as well try and get some sleep.

Surprisingly, that Night I did not dream of Sirius falling through the Veil or Cedric dying. Instead _I was falling. I was falling. Falling so fast, that the stats become shining white ribbons. Black and white swiotled together until they lost meaning, I was loosing my senses. Or did I loose them before the fall began? Why have I let go of that staff? Did I really want to die so badly? Even if I did there must have been a better way out._

_I was falling through the Void. Terrible spinning darkness. I was frightening and nauseating. I was falling to my death and while part of me was content with that, there was part that desperately wanted to live. Said that if I died, they won. That these hypocritical liars, would win. And other part beggiing for swift death insteasd of this.  
_

_And then I started chanting. I know I did. But I could not heard, what I was chanting, 'because there was nothing for sound to travel through.'_

_It was a foolish hope. A spell so obscure, I have not thought of it since I read it. It was more of a prayer than a spell. A way to offer bargain to the powers to be. The results were not likely to end in my favour, but I had to try, what could have be worse than being a monster falling to its death? Then dying alone and hated? Then contemplating what throwing up in a Void would cause?_

_No one sane would use that incantation. It was a deal with the devil or more like a bargain with Dimensional Witch* without her present so you could not in the end curse her name._

"_**To gain something, you have to lose something of equal (or higher) price. What is the price of your life? Of your sanity?"****_

Then I woke up.

I have all but forgotten it by the time the war ended. After that I slept away my exhaustion from the battle of Hogwarts and after a month of nightmares, funerals and first damage control I was almost afraid to go to sleep. I didn't want to see it again. To see the life leave eyes of these close to me. But I am not a devil, so even if I was afraid, I needed to sleep. But to sleep means to dream.

_I was locking a door. I knew, just knew - you know -the way you know things in dreams, that it was one of the usually unused guest chambers. Nobody will disturb me here from my reading, since my idiotic brother won't think to look for me there. _

_In the dream it seemed completely right, that I have brother and an idiotic one at that, that I lived in this place and loved to read._

_I curled comfortably in the armchair. I opened an old grimoire, full of ancient and obscure spells and rituals on random page. I began to read with avid interest, that would make Hermione look like dispassionate reader. _

'_I have no better world then spell for what I am about to describe and yet I am reluctant to call it so. The humans from Midgard would call it a deal with devil, which may be more fitting._

_It… Nothing about this spell is constant apart from the key parts of the incantation and the fact that it always costly for the castor._

_It can be used for almost anything except bringing dead back to life. The problem is, it requires a price. It abide to, what is known as The Law of equivalent exchange. Yet it appears as though fates themselves decide what is equivalent._

_I can not recommend the use of this spell, but if you find yourself in situation desperate enough to call for it's use, be careful. Be careful of what youn wish for, for it will come true.'_

_I shivered too fascinated to stop reading yet already silently vowing to myself to never use this spell._

_I managed to recognise the incantation as the one I used in another dream._

Emerald green eyes snapped open. The infamous Potter luck was in play again, I was sure of it. For in two of my dreams figured that spell. And both these dreams felt so real. Just like my visions had.

* * *

* I love Tsubasa. And I thought, why the hell not? So yes, I don't own Dimensional Witch. Studio CLAMP probably does own her. And what a great character she is. Unfortunately this was her last appearance.

** I know it can be seen as alusion to a lot of things, I kinda realised it after I wrote it, but I decided to leave it there, cause it really fits there, doesn't it?


	2. Chapter 2 Here and now

**Here and now**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Thor. Also English is not my maternal language. You were warned.**

_And there is no why, there is no how,_

_It's like the sky, just one free flow_  
_But you're here right now,_

_and this is your show,_

_so take a bow,_

_cos the show is on right..._

_ Poets of the fall – Heal my wounds_

I stared at the trio of objects lying so innocently there. The cloak was, where I left it. On it lay the elder wand. It seemed not even the fiendyfire could destroy it permanently. I was running out of ideas with that one. While I can't say I wanted to see death-stick there, I did expect it, but what really got me was the resurrection stone laying innocently beside it.

I shook my head. I needed a shower. Long and hot one at that. Nothing could help me calm and order my panicking thoughts like hot shower.

As I get out from my nightclothes, one thought stood out from the jumbled panicking mess: '_to gather the three is to become the Master of Death.'_

I entered the shower and put on the water. I did not like that thought one bit, but something about it... rung strangely true. It was like, when I heard that verse of the prophecy about how either must die. Even before that I knew, Voldemort won't leave me alone, but this finalised it. It drove home the truth, that it would have to be me, who'll kill him. It added up the burden of knowing, that if I fail, the world falls with me. But all in all the prophecy did not change, what I had to do. Even before I heard the prophecy, I knew I would have to fight him, after all, he always came after me. I knew I had to fight him to the best of my abilities. It just meant I could not afford to fail.

'_Master of death.'_ That thought laid heavily on me, the same way that damned verse had. '_Damn it all! I just get my freedom back and now this._

_It does not paint target on my back. Nobody even knows about it. It might not even be true. And if it is? ... Well... then ... What does it even mean?'_

The hot water started to relax my tense muscles. It calmed the frantic mess of my thoughts, so that, as I massaged shampoo into my hair, few coherent thoughts stood out.

_'It is possible, that the stone appeared now, cause it is exactly one lunar month or because it is first dark moon since then. Both would make sense. I can try asking Dumbledore's portrait and Luna's father, but it probably won't do much good, I should try to find out Peverell's family archive, if they got one. I probably won't find anything more then few speculation, but even that was doubtful. _

_Apart from a bit of theoretical digging it looked, like I would have to leave sleeping dogs lie. Maybe since, I could not destroy them, I could hide stone and wand for now. Maybe Petal could do it, yes Petal could hide them, so I don't have to touch these items. Better to not endorse the notion of being Master of Death._

_Matter closed, until future notice._

_These dreams on the other hand... I have to research dreams and vision, oh joy more research. But I have learned the value of being resourceful the hard way. _

_Hermione would be so proud, if she knew._

_Of course, she would also be scandalised, by the fact I thought the whole research think will be for naught._

_I must write them down. This one and the one I got after Sirius. I have a feeling, there will be more of such dreams. I have to start dream journal, for real for a change. I probably should make it inaccessible for anyone else and inconspicuous. _

_Hmm, combination of keying it to me and me alone and password in parseltongue with slight notice me not ward, should do._'

I exited the shower and dried myself. I dressed myself in the casual but nice clothing with green-rimmed robe on the top. It was time to go visit Andromeda and discuss details of taking care of Teddy.

I was finally free from my so called destiny. '_I have not let Voldemort win and I sure as hell won't let this new challenge, tie me down. I won't let it take me away from Teddy._' With that last thought I aparated to my godson and his grandmother. Man, I was so nervous about that conversation.


	3. Chapter 3 Testing waters

**AN/ Sorry it took so long, but life can be quite a bit nasty thing to handle.**

**Well, I don't have English as my maternal language, so please be lenient with my grammar and let me know, if you do find mistakes, so I can correct them. **

**Disclaimer: Sadly I own neither Harry Potter nor Thor. **

_**Testing Waters**_

I would have never guessed, that a talk could be that exhausting. Well, talk and late lunch, but still. After depositing my robes, I poured myself glass of a scotch.

It was a strange awkward meeting, but maybe, just maybe I had just gained my own family. It certainly seemed, that Andromeda took to me by the time I left. She reminded me of many things I would rather forget and we created a plan of joined care here in England for now and planned our summer. Black villa in Greek does sound so lovely, that I can hardly wait.

As exhausting as the transformation from strangers to family seems, it certainly is worth it, I thought as I sipped on my scotch. And as tired as I felt there was a lot to do. Hmm, where to start?

"Petal!" I called. She appeared silently and gave me a curtsy. Her ears flapped as she lowered her head in it. She looked a bit surreal. A house-elf in red dress, short-sleeved dress with v-neck and golden embroidery. A stag stood proudly on her chest with lilies on it's antlers and little lilies decorating hems of the dress. At least we were able to work out the uniform loophole.

"Master called?"

I managed not to sigh. I hated being called that, but if anyone found how to get house-elf to not call them master, they sure as hell did not share that knowledge. Petal was the last remaining Potter house-elf. She lived quietly forgotten about, taking care of my various properties including apparently the ones I inherited after Sirius. I found her, when Mrs. Malfoy asked me, if it was possible for her and Draco to stay in one of them for a while, which ended in her giving me tour through them.

"Yes, on my invisibility cloak lies a wand and a stone. Please find a place, where no one would find them and hide them… No, not together, but at a different places. But this is important Petal, when I say no one I mean it. Not me and certainly no dark wizard or power-hungry idiot. You can drop them down into Mount Vesuvius crater, if you think it'll do the trick"

So that was out of the way. '_Goood! Now to the other things_.' I drowned the rest of my scotch and got up. It was time to go on a walk. Absentmindedly I summoned a wallet. Walk would surely help me clear my head and I should probably buy a journal or something like that and a ballpoint pen. Lots of ballpoint pens, Merlin, how I missed these. And as opposed to computer, these won't short circuit on me. But they certainly will improve my handwriting. Maybe I should find a spell to create a dicta-pen, but then again… no I would feel like an idiot dictating it and one can never know, who might overhear.

I opened the door and was greeted with a beautiful sunny day, which in the somewhat shabby Grimmauld place looked quite anticlimactic. This place must have once been a good neighborhood, but it looked like these times were long gone and nobody has even tried to maintain it since. Well, no that it matters. I move through it quickly enough and it is not like I have any wish to stay in England anyway. Although giving an anonymous gift for the cultivation of this place might not be such a bad idea either.

After awhile of wandering through the city I come upon an old but homely looking stationery shop. It turned out to be just the place. I brought deep red leather diary with latch and lots of pens. I was briefly disappointed, that they haven't got green one, but I suppose that most of my acquaintances would find me having green one strange, so it is quite all-right.

I wander through London for a bit longer, until I come upon a nice looking cafe. I order myself tea - blueberry hill and blueberry muffin. Here in one of London's quiet oasis from the city rush, all my worries seems so surreal, that I quietly hum to myself as I open my journal and begin writing: "_I was falling. I was falling. Falling so fast, that the stats become shining…"_

I thank the waitress, who brings me my order and sip on my tea and scold my tongue. Ah, well, but as I glance of what I have written so far, I find new appreciation for muggle ball-pens. Honestly even, if we leave the impractical ink-wells out of it, it still awesome how much easier, they are for use. Simply neat.

I carefully take another sip of my tea, bit into my muffin, before returning to my writing. It doesn't seem so terrible from there, but that might be just because I have not started with my research yet. Or it might be the muffin and tea.

-AN-

**As always reviews are greatly appreciated! And I love yours suggestions and guesses, where this is going.**


	4. Chapter 4 Outrageous ideas

**Outrageous ideas and pretty dreams**

_Once again taboo becomes your law_

_What you want seems taken by another tide turning_

_Away from our flower field where we used to lay beneath the sky,_

_riding dreams to some other side_

_ \- Poets of the fall: Heal my wounds_

I look over what I wrote so far and list a clean page. I write a letter C into the right upper corner and then I start listing on the page:

_There figures same spell in both dreams._

_My perspective is same in both of them, if it doesn't change, I will refer to it as my 'dream-self' on C-pages and I on ones describing the dreams._

_My dream-self decided to commit suicide by falling into the darkness between stars. Whatever race my 'dream-self is, this wasn't in itself enough to kill it._

_My dream-self then had second thoughts and 'made a deal with the devil' or something along that line to… to what exactly? To save it's life? It's sanity?_

_My first dream about 'this' was about the deal and it happened after I asked 'why me?', after learning about the prophecy._

_Could it be, that I… that my dream-self was me? That my existence now, my life as "Chosen one" was a result of that someone making a 'deal with the devil'?_

The last point was written with a bit unsteady hand, but my hand have started to really shake later, as I was putting away the pen. I stared at the page with shaking hands. 'It is just a theory. And farfetched one, don't get yourself worked out over it,' I tell myself mentally, even as my traitorous thoughts whisper: 'but haven't all other far-fetched theories in your life come true so far?' I shiver as I realise, that I really have no good defense against that.

I sigh and close my eyes just to stove off the building headache nothing more, but...

_I am fighting, but not in a war. I am on a multicolored bridge and playing all my best cards, all these spells I can do even as I try not to think, that I could do in my sleep. Too bad I spared with my bro- NO opponent since I started training. Too bad the oaf knows me so well, but so do I him. I smirk. time to get serious. _

_My voice drops to sound as poisonous as basilisk when I promise to visit 'his mortal'. I see my bro- No! The oaf scrunch his face as he takes my promise as threat to his precious Jane. Pche he doesn't even know her, he only met her three days ago. It works, he is charging like blind bilspinge. My heart clenches - even as my mind rejoices, that my ploy worked, - that hypocrite, he has known me for centuries, he calls me brother and yet he really believes I would… After that there were no thoughts just whirlwind of bitter brokenness, even as my mouth spat out worlds aiming to what? Prove this to be nightmare? Make him hurt as I did?_

I wake up with heart in my throat. I take a few steadying breaths before noting it down. So centuries? That sounds just wrong, but it proves a point, whoever I am dreaming of is /was or whatever not human. That observation goes down on the C-page as well as sudden aversion to calling the blomd oaf brother. It seems my dream-self was adopted. A noteworthy theory either way. After finishing my newest update with 'research bilspinge' - possibly bull like creature?" to the - for the lack of better words - dream jurnal, I close it and stand up.

Stretching a bit I decide to head towards, what used to be Buckbeak's room and is now my personal duel / gym room. A bit of manual labour tends to clear one's head and I wouldn't trust myself with apparation in my current state to go flaying.

After I thoroughly exhaust myself in gym, I take a shower and eat light dinner.

_I look with fascination at the green mist surrounding my chubby fingers, willing it to form a butterfly. After a while it does. A wide grin stretches across my face and I rush through familiar door and well used corridor. I am so excited I don't even knock. I just burst into my mom study. _

"_Mom, mom look!"_

_She looks at me and I cup my hands and focus on the green mist, it appears and I think of butterfly. I imagine forming it into one with my hands like if it was plasteline, and suddenly there is green butterfly in my hands. I grin proudly at momma._

_She smiles at me proudly. "That is truly amazing, my little mischief-maker. To have such control over your magic already. Beautiful."_

_She puts me on her lap and looks me in the eyes. "As amazing as it is though do be careful."_

"_Careful?"_

"_Yes, ddo practice it if you want, but no more than two butterfly a day! You could exhaust yourself so much, it would hurt otherwise._"

"_I promise mom."_

"_Wonderful, now i have a meeting and your brother should be ending his lessons for the day why don't you go tell him the wonderful news?"_

_I nod, I should show him. I slip from her lips and run to the doors."_

"_And son, do remember to knock. What if I already had my meeting? What would you do then?" The doors fall shut behind me before i can think of a reply, but I have big brother to surprise._

As I sit in the morning eating breakfast I have to admit, the exhaustion did work. There were few more dreams of my dream-self learning magic. No names though. Or if there were names I can not recall them now. These dreams were not nightmares. They weren't unpleasant or confused. They seem to me like precious good memories. Like my memories of good times with Ron and hermione, only there - in these dreams - I have loving mother and brother, even if he is an oaf, he actually reminds me of golden retrievers. While they are friendly and playful, they often do not know their own might and if they do injure you because of it they just stare at you with these deep sorrowful eyes. They look so sad, you just have to tell them it is alright, because that kicked-pupppy look is just painful to look at.


End file.
